I Just Can't Stop Loving You - Short Story by Rajakumar D

I Just Can’t Stop Loving You

d.rajakumar@yahoo.com

Author's note: I wrote this story in 1999 while I was working in IBIL Tech Limited, Adyar, Channai. The story narrates the technology and economy prevailing then and I do not want to change them now. The last telegram in India was probably delivered on Jun 14, 2013 and hence forth no one India would receive the telegram.

- Rajakumar (05-Jan-2019)

Am I honest when I told her "I love you"?. This thought engulfed me when I dropped her at the street corner and came into my room. When I gazed from my window, I could see Asha entering her house. This thought had never came into me when I told the same to Felicy Joseph. May be because she was the first girl in my life. Bull shit! why the hell the thought of Felicy came into my mind when I really don’t need her and when I have almost flushed her out of my memory. (Jesus, is it only almost, is she still there as a part of my memory, and is that why the question of honesty came into my mind, when Asha came into my life?)

 

Asha came over to the window and was showing some signs with her hand, and lip movement which I couldn't understand but I was forced to act as I have understood it. What she tried to convey me could be, asking me to come out at night 10 o’ clock to the window again, or we’ll go to the movie tomorrow we were talking in the evening, or she is going to her friend’s house tomorrow and our program is canceled. It could be one of this or something else; I won’t know what she told because she’ll feel humiliated if I ask her the next day or sometimes she would have forgotten totally about the sign communication of the previous day. Love is totally an emotional affair. On seeing her sister coming in, Asha moved away from the window, even though her sister knew about this affair.

This is only one week old, and the pressure she has built over me is enormous. I started feeling that I can never move away from her. At times the thoughts of Felicy come in and it is only to compare Asha. The stain of pain left by Felicy is still inside me. The day I first met her, the day she insulted me, the thought that she used me for her advantage, and the last day I went to see of her when she was flying to USA; I can never forget even though Asha is now in my life.

I started feeling sultry, this summer is horrible with no flow of air at night. The room is small and I occupied it two and of a years ago. It is actually a kitchen converted in to a living room and I paid a hefty amount of Rs.750 as rent per month. It had no facility except a bathroom adjacent to the room. I had my bed in the corner a the door faced it. I kept the TV on the projection from the wall which was meant for keeping the gas stove and other cooking things and the music system was above the wall where I used to dump the unused and unwanted stuff. There is no other accessory to sit or relax so when my friends came I have to take them out. It is not that I cannot afford to move to a better, but it was Asha who kept me inside this den. (When I was moving with Felicy, I was having a fancy on Asha, but at that time I thought her name was Cuba, because that’s what her sister used to call her.)

Feeling hungry, I came out and walked to a hotel near by and I saw Asha standing at the door and waving for me. She is wearing a bright printed nightgown, in which she looked like an angel. I just couldn’t stop recalling the memory of Felicy, she too looked like an angel. I remember the days I used to wait at the bus stops, looking for her and most of the days she never turned up, I kick my bike with all my disappointment. It is not a question of who is better, if such a question arises Asha is far better than Felicy in all ways.

***
 

It was the beginning of January, two years back I first saw Felicy at a computer class. I don’t know whether I liked her at the first sight. Her accent of English was very different. She was working for a MNC as personal secretary to the CEO. I understood why her English was like that. I helped her in the computer to develop program on what we were taught at the class, that’s where we started our conversation. And later, we used to come early before the class start and leave late after the classes are over. I dropped her near her house, so she had enough time and reasons to tell her parents why she was late. Her parents had American dream, they never bothered their daughter going late, ultimately what they wanted is that she landed in USA.

"Is this the first time you are moving with a girl?", Felicy asked.
 
"How did you find it out?"
 
"I can see the excitement in your face when I’m with you."
 
"Have you ever been in love before?"
 

"No," she told with a dreamy eyes, "but many approached me. I never wanted to fall in love."

"This time …"
 

"Am I not your sister?" she asked me teasingly. My face went white and I felt suddenly the world stopped rotating. I couldn’t breath. She was enjoying while everything around me was turning dark. "I love you, Pradeep. I love you more than anything in this world." I need an assuring kiss. She never gave me one or allowed me to give one. Being a true Christian, in the name of Jesus, she postponed everything to be after marriage.

Everything were sweet nonsense, until she told that she left her job. I was shocked, as I thought I will be loosing her and I will never get a chance to meet her if she left her job.

"My brother in California told that there is good opportunity for Y2K. I’m joining IBM Mainframe course to equip myself to go to US," she told me one evening. Among the disappointments she gave me, this was the greatest one.

"Feli, you can get better job in software industry here itself. Why the hell you have to go to US?"

"Please, Pradeep. Please," her face looked like a small girl asking for a doll. "It was my childhood dream, I don’t want to spoil it when it materialize only because we’re in love"

Anger was raising inside me, I had to put it off with a lot of effort. I didn’t utter a word. Neither she spoke to me; she walked away and got into some bus. I never bothered to see what bus she was getting in. I decided not to see her again.

The next day she called me over phone, "I’m so sorry honey! I had hurt you very much. You know, I didn’t sleep." I melted away. I also didn’t sleep; my tiredness and eye irritation went off immediately after I heard her voice over phone.

"You join the course, baby! I shall drop you at the institute everyday," my voice was a little broken as I was overwhelmed emotionally. I felt so light, I was just flying, the only reason being she felt sorry for what she did the last evening.

I had to adjust my shift at my office to take her to the office everyday on week days. It was a suffering to get up at 4.30am; go to the bus stop near her house; she may come at anytime between 5.30am and 6.15am. I liked waiting for her; I liked people noticing me. It continued for another three months. By the by, I also joined IBM Mainframe course in another institute in a evening batch. The period was like nightmare. My day begins at morning 4.30am and ends at 11.30pm.

After three months, her classes were over and she stopped calling me. I called her home only to hear that she had been to Bangalore from her mother. It was not only from her mother, her sisters also told the same reply. I thought she was looking for a job in India itself. Thank god.

My relief was short lived, when one of my friend told me he saw her with a boy near his office. My throat choked. I felt I would breakdown and cry. I cried. At her home I always heard that she had been to Bangalore. I didn’t know whom to believe, my friend or her parents.

I sent her a Christmas greetings and a birthday card, which falls a week after Christmas. End January, she called again to my office to tell me that her dream is getting true. With a stimulating, sensuous voice completely filled with emotion and happiness she told, "Pradeep, I’m going to US on February 11."

I kept silent for a while. I didn’t know what to say. It was so good to hear her voice again, but to me the news was not good. My instinct told I’m missing her and I’ll miss her forever.

"I want to see you, Feli," I finally said, controlling my emotions.

"I board the flight from here to Delhi at 5.00pm. From Delhi we take up the flight to New York," her voice was as if she was still in a dream.

"Feli, I want to see you," my voice raised.

"Pradeep, I’m totally excited. You know, how I feel right now? I’m not able to do anything properly and time is running out. You know, this moment is so crucial in my life. Please understand, Pradeep. You know, time is so important, and I can’t spare any time to you."

"Do you have anything to say, Feli? Is this what the way you value love?"

"But, Pradeep, you know I have to leave in a short while. I promise to meet you at the airport."

I hooked on the phone. I felt empty. Do I have to meet her at airport was the only question I had then. I felt my temple throbbing. I took permission and left my office. She filled in my whole heart and every thought of her ached my heart. I lost all the control on me. I felt sleepy. I slept. I slept. I slept 

***

When I woke up it was the next day evening. I felt hungry, and didn’t feel like eating anything. I walked into a hotel and had a cup of coffee (it was just sugar, water and milk and it never refreshed me) and returned back to my room. On the way back, a casual look on my neighbor’s house brought Cuba standing at the door, her eyes glittering like stars. With a reflex I turned my head back and went into my room and again I fall back into sleep.

Days passed. Office colleagues and others known to me asked what is happening to me. I avoided looking at the mirror, I wondered whether the image was me. I wished February 11 shouldn’t be there in the calendar, but the day came. It was an unconscious and uncontrolled activity, I found myself at the airport at 3.30pm. Felicy haven’t yet come to the airport. I had a coffee. I smoked a cigarette. I had a Coke. I smoked another cigarette. All the beautiful girls didn’t look beautiful at the airport. It was 4.10pm when Felicy came in with her parents and her younger sister. She waved me. Her parents gave a hostile look. She came to me and told, "Pradeep, I’ve to go for the security check and collect my boarding pass. Time is running out. Be a good boy. Mm.. I’ll write to you immediately after I settle down there. Anything else I have to say?"

Unemotionally my eyes browsed over her. She had applied makeup with good taste. I looked deep into her eyes, then I moved to her forehead, her earlobes, the broad red lips, sharp nose, fleshy cheek, neck, breast, arms, fingers … Fingers? Where is the ring I gave her?

"Pradeep, why do you stare like that?"

"Nothing. You look very beautiful."

"Thanks," she giggled. "You send me your resume. I shall try for a job. You know, I can’t get any help from my brother. There are chances he may suspect our relationship"

I couldn’t listen to what she was saying. Only thing which bothered me was the ring. "Where is the ring?" I asked.

"Ring?" she look puzzled for a moment. Then without any hesitation or guilty feeling, she said casually, "Oh. I lost it somewhere. Why do you look dull? Be cheerful, young man. You’ll also one day be there at US along with me. Be a good boy. Prepare well and work hard for the telephonic interview. They, at US don’t look into anything else, they just look how you communicate over the phone during the course of the interview. OK. … OK. We can be friends and we’ll be friends. OK. My father is looking for me. Good Bye. I’ll write. OK. Bye"

I could never utter a word. Spellbound at her casual attitude on the ring, I lost words. I felt my love betrayed. Will she won’t feel the ring is just not gold alone? My heart ached. The airport was fading under the mist of my tears. I walked back towards the exit. At the exit door, I looked back in. She picked up her luggage and was moving towards the security check counter. Her sister looked at me. When there is no Felicy in my life, there is no meaning to my life. Should I die? No. Not for this bitch who never cared me, fuck her and her bloody American attitude. I’ll live and there are so many things that are beautiful than Felicy. Yes. Cuba is there in my next door.

***

I have crossed the hotel where I planned to have food, loosing my mind to Felicy. Those agonizing days are gone, when I used to wait for her letter. Felicy kept her promise; she had sent me three mails all without her address. For a year I kept waiting. Even now, when I am in love with Asha, deep inside my heart there is am expectation that Felicy will write a letter with her address. Forget … forget everything about her …

I had a very satisfying dinner with peace in mind and a satisfaction in life. If there existed a god I will be thankful to him for showing me Asha and Asha is light back into my life. Unlike Felicy, Asha reciprocated whatever I expected from her.

Today evening when we were at beach she asked me, "Should we continue our relationship? We’ll break now, when we are happy… this happy moments, I never want to forget it in my life." She looked at me with love. "Pradeep, I cannot bare a disappointment anymore." I know what she was talking about.

When it comes to marriage, the economic and social criteria takes a major role in decision making. When I talked to my father about my marriage with Felicy, I had the trouble to face his rage and anger that she was a Christian. (She belonged to the same cast as mine, the religion created the trouble - to hell with the Indian cast and religious system and their marriage procedures.) My father never accepted for the marriage with Felicy, finally it was Felicy who decided that we will be friends.

This time the story is a little different. Last Sunday evening, I was moving out to see a friend, I over heard my house owner was talking to my neighbour, the subject being they are moving to a different place. I looked into Cuba’s house, I saw Cuba looking at me, my instinct told she wanted to talk to me.

***

Next day, with a little hesitation I offered her lift and after a little reluctance she accepted to take my offer and got in my bike.

"I had a feeling you’ll never talk to me. Even if you hadn’t offered me this ride, I wanted to talk to you." Cuba told me when we got into a restaurant, having the coffee I ordered.

"What’s that you wanted to talk to me, Cuba?" I asked.

With a broad smile she replied, "One. I’m Asha, and not Cuba as my sister call me. Two. The same reason why you offered me a ride, " keeping her face mischievous.

I felt absurd. I didn’t expect an answer like this. To gather some time, I looked into her face. The usual Indian way she looked under the table. She was wearing a dark green dress, which slightly lessened her actual complexion. She looked beautiful as she blushed as I looked her directly.

"Don’t look like that. I can’t look at it. Your eyes are very familiar among my friends," she said murmuring.

"What else do your friends know?"

"What else do you want them to know?" she threw back the question to me.

I started feeling, she is different, different from Felicy in many ways. With Felicy, I have to take all the initiatives and she will be talking the decisions. I’ll ask her we’ll go to a movie and she’ll decide which movie to go. I’ll tell we’ll go shopping and she’ll be the buyer. But Asha? I felt she was giving me more importance by asking me questions and pulling words from me. I suffer, I don’t have words. Can I meet her expectations?

I became a victim of mediocrity when we had the following conversation, sitting under a shady tree on the beach, on a hot sunny day. I was getting nervous, how I’ll face my father, my society, this world and my Asha.

"I can’t stay at home after completing my college," she told. "How long can I stay with my sister? Will I won’t be a burden to them? How long can my mother take up the responsibilities alone?"

"What’s your father going to do then?" I asked without knowing the implications of this question.

She looked at me, grasping my hands tightly, as if requiring some assurance, with tears dewing at the edge of her eyes, she whispered in a voice I shouldn’t hear, "I’ve to call someone my father, whom my mother shows as my father." Leaning over my shoulder, she sobbed. "He’s my stepfather," through her tears she said. "My mother didn’t know what to do, when my father passed away leaving behind two daughters. She was not educated to go for a job. She needed safety and money to bring us up. It was not a her misapprehension, why she opted for a second marriage. The male community always wanted to exploit upon the helplessness of a young widow. She needed a shelter, and my stepfather came forward at that moment. I don’t bother if he was good or bad. He is good to my mother."

I was shaken by the information. "I should tell you this or at some other moment if you come to know about it, you may feel that I have deceived you," she continued. "Is it not? I had another bitter experience of this type. Six months back, I broke with another boy. I told my mother that we were in love. And my mother asked me to tell him about the family situation. I told him and that was the last day I saw him." She looked at me nervously as if she is hiding something. Casting her eyelid down she told, "I belong to lower cast." She held my hand even tightly and clinched to me even closer. Her body language told me ‘Please don’t leave me.’

The amount of information she gave me was too heavy to be digested. I needed more time to assimilate the information.

First, her mother is a widow, married again. Secondly, she had another love affair, which ended abruptly. Thirdly, she belonged to a lower cast. Anyone of these reasons is enough to stop a marriage even in an arranged marriage setup. Marriage is not just the wish of two people who are involved; it involves the long cherished dream of parents (they always wanted to select the bride and the groom), the relatives’ ego (they wanted to maintain a social status and my father and mother should feel proud that the girl brings in huge money as dowry), and so many other things.

My mind raced against my wits. For a moment my love for Asha vanished and lost my reasoning power. I became a brute. A so called social consciousness and the respect for my cast woke up. I felt my blood gushed into my brain. And that was for a moment. Until I felt the cold trembling hand of Asha. I looked down at her. I could see ‘something’ sparkling in her eyes, that ‘something’ could be LOVE, which I never noticed in Felicy.

I don’t know whether she noticed or felt the chemical changes happening inside me. I felt ashamed. What did I love in Asha? Was it her beauty, or her body, or her family, or her community… what’s it… what’s it…

Did I come into this world with my wish? Did I had any wish to meet Felicy before I met her or at least with Asha? Nothing had been my wish, I didn’t select my parents, my community, my country. Then what right do I have to select the parents of Asha? Why should I get into rage after hearing the truth?

"Or shall we break now, if it will create any trouble in your life?" I came into the present moment, on her question. I was puzzled for a moment and it took some time to understand the question. I shut her mouth with my palm.

"No, Asha. There should be no question like that in our life."

"But… already I had damaged my name at home. After my examinations, my stepfather will be looking for a groom. He’ll think it’s his responsibility to get rid of me at the earliest."

"I need some time to think, Asha. It’s life. We have to plan. My job itself is a trouble now. I have to switch over to development projects. I’m on the search now. I have to convince my parents and make other arrangements for marriage. Please don’t hurry and spoil things. You continue with your post-graduation studies. If there’s any problem at home, I’ll put you in a hostel. But for marriage, we have to wait. OK. Remember Asha, I love you, and I just can’t stop loving you."

I didn’t know whether she’s convinced on my words. I have my own problems. My sister is yet to get married. My sister’s marriage shouldn’t get affected on the ground of my inter-cast marriage. My brother is not yet settled. He needs to find a job either in software or electronics. I’ll have to help him to find a job. And now my marriage with Asha. Her examinations are not yet over. Even though, I promised Asha, I actually don’t have the courage to face my father.

***

I looked through the window into her room. I could see her silhouette preparing for her examination.

"We’ll be friends. I don’t want you to stand embarrassing in front of your parents because of me." She had been repeating this statement lot of time that I felt may be she should be right. I could imagine how difficult it could be if I have to stand before my father and discuss my marriage with Asha. I was humiliated by my father and my relatives on Felicy issue. Then I promised my father to marry any girl he finds, but it should be after the marriage of my sister.

I guess that Asha wanted to sacrifice love only fearing the society. That is why she often repeated, "We’ll be friends," or "We’ll break now." I have always seen the pain in her face whenever she said it. Only thing I could do now is to stay unmarried all my life. I will not be happy by taking this decision and it will not make others happy too.

Otherwise I can accept what she used to say so often, "We’ll be friends." Couldn’t we be friends, by sharing the achievements and frustrations, joyful moments and melancholy moods. If the attitude is right, there could be no mental block in achieving friendship or love.

Without fear or hesitation we had shared many things on earth in the short period of two weeks . I don’t thing we could have shared it only if we were in love, only if we were married, but in the beginning it was the infatuation which brought us together. I can afford to loose this love, if I could gather the complete confidence on friendship. If love is eternal, I am sure I am not loosing Asha; I have to draw two paintings of Asha, one will be my love Asha, and the other will be my friend Asha. And the I have to paint my love Asha black, as though she never existed. Only my friend Asha will be there for ever. Well, I decided, we’ll be friends. It will help me to hide myself from the reality, I can keep the scares of my buried inside my heart. Being friends is a good cover, if it keeps the real world happy, and I’ll live forever in the virtual world with the memory of the happy moments.

***

After a fortnight. University campus.

"I’m so happy today. All my exams are over today, next will be my marriage. I’ve written my exams so well and I expect the gold medal. What will you give me if I get one?"

I started my bike smiling. Sitting behind she asked me, "You didn’t answer me."

"I’m also happy and exited the same way you are!" starting the bike.

"Any special reasons?" she asked.

"Can you wait for another fifteen minutes?"

"I guess what it could be. Do you want to bet?"

"Have I ever won you on any bet? I’ve always lost and I don’t want to loose again."

"You coward…"

"I’m happy to be as one with you. Won’t you save me when I’m in trouble."

"Are you not ashamed to hide behind a woman?"

She hid herself behind me when I stopped the bike. She pounded with her both hands on my back and hugged me from behind with a cry of unexpected happiness.

***

My father will be receiving a telegram in another three hours with the following words:

I MARRIED ASHA TODAY - PRADEEP